


Touch Me With Fire That I Be Cleansed

by ghost_like



Series: VIXX Dragon Age AU [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age Lore, Fantasy, Getting Back Together, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_like/pseuds/ghost_like
Summary: The road to redemption is a long one; Hongbin is not sure he's making any progress.





	Touch Me With Fire That I Be Cleansed

**Author's Note:**

> yes, it is i, back at it again
> 
> this is the first forsaken extra/follow up story and it's focused on rabin. mostly hongbin. you should probably read forsaken first if you haven't, because this is going to be confusing af otherwise.
> 
> \- the title was taken from a passage of the chant of light, which is canon to the dragon age franchise;  
> \- there are mentions of events of dragon age: inquisition, but it shouldn't be too confusing;  
> \- i did a very half-assed job revising, i apologize for any mistakes you'll probably find;  
> \- warning for mass execution on the first scene - you can skip it if that's something you're uncomfortable with.
> 
> enjoy! 💕

✶

 

Grim were the days that followed Sanghyuk’s coronation. No— Grim were the days that followed their descent into the Old God’s prison, the day Jaehwan disappeared - but on that particular day, the gloominess was palpable. 

The skies above were grey, heavy with raindrops, as Hongbin stood beside Wonshik, both flanking Sanghyuk on the wooden ledge of the Castrum’s gallows. Taekwoon and Hakyeon were standing further back, there more for Sanghyuk’s sake than anything else; Sanghyuk had offered them positions of power in the Nevarran court, had tried to name them Ambassadors, but both had declined - it wasn’t the life for them, and Hongbin understood. They would walk away with titles and an estate, and that was that.

Hongbin, on the other hand, had promptly accepted the position offered to him - Spymaster. Brokering information was something he was good at, and having a place of relative power meant that he could do good.

It also meant that he could be near Wonshik, the new Captain of the Royal Guard. The title suited him.

The crowd before them was buzzing with curiosity, stretching their necks to see the long line of men and women standing side by side before the many nooses prepared for them, hands bound in front of their bodies. Some of them were crying, but most of them had their heads held high in defiance. As if defiance could do anything for them now.

Sanghyuk was giving a speech regarding the mass execution. Hongbin had stopped listening, the weight of everything too distracting, but he forced himself to tune back in now that the speech was nearing its end.

“These are not all of the people responsible for the loss many of us suffered that night,” Sanghyuk was saying, “and I fear we will never be able to find every last one of them. This will not bring our loved ones back, it will not turn back time and reunite us with them. Maybe this isn’t the justice you sought, and maybe it won’t be enough. It is, however, the only justice I can offer you.

“These people stand before you accused of high treason and the mass murder that took place here, in Castrum Draconis. They were questioned extensively and have confessed - quite easily, I must say,” Sanghyuk added, tone wry despite his expression never changing, “and for their crimes, I sentence them to die.”

Sanghyuk looked over to the executioner and gave him a nod, allowing him to place each noose around each prisoner’s neck. The crowd was alive with whispers and murmurs, much tamer than Hongbin had expected; he thought there would be chaos, people throwing things and shouting, but no. It was something Hongbin had noticed ever since Sanghyuk took his place as King, how his presence carried the entire weight of his grief and how it affected the people. How respectful they were towards him, how demure they all were when around him. Perhaps not the best way to begin his reign, but effective nonetheless.

A hush fell over the crowd when the last noose was properly sitting on the neck of the last prisoner, and this time Sanghyuk gave Wonshik the nod. Wonshik’s face was set in stone, harsh and emotionless, when he called for the executioner to open the trap doors.

None of them looked away as the bodies fell through the openings on the floor, the sounds of necks snapping and desperate gasps for air and choking loud in the silence that followed. Hongbin felt a wicked sense of vengeance, seeing the people who had tricked him into almost losing his life, the people who would have killed him and his friends - his _ family _ \- without a second’s hesitation, dying. The people responsible for Jaehwan not being there.

Yes. He was very satisfied with that outcome.

When the last of the cultists stopped moving, body going limp as it swayed from the rope, Sanghyuk turned around without another word and left, making his way back inside the palace. Wonshik and Hongbin promptly followed him, Hakyeon and Taekwoon doing the same.

They didn’t talk for a while, heavy drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky when they were about halfway down the path to the entrance. Fitting, Hongbin thought, even if a little cliché. It was only when Wonshik shut the large doors of the Castrum that Hakyeon moved to envelop Sanghyuk in a tight hug.

“You did well out there,” Hakyeon said, rubbing Sanghyuk’s back gently.

“Did I?” Sanghyuk questioned, sounding tired to his very soul. “It doesn’t feel like it made any difference.”

“They can’t hurt anybody else now,” Hakyeon reminded him, his tone calm and warm in a way that almost felt motherly.

“There are still more of them out there,” Sanghyuk said, stepping out of the hug and continuing on through the main hall. “The handful that died here— It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hakyeon argued, keeping up with Sanghyuk, Taekwoon quietly following along.

Hongbin and Wonshik didn’t accompany them, staying behind at the entrance watching them go. Hongbin looked towards Wonshik, taking in the signs of fatigue in his face; those had been very tiresome days. Taking back Sanghyuk’s throne, questioning the cultists they managed to capture and sorting through the mess they had made of the palace and all the documents held within, Sanghyuk’s coronation and now the execution of the majority of their prisoners.

And there was still so much to be done.

“Are you alright?” Hongbin asked in a whisper, and Wonshik gave him a roll of his shoulder in response. “You should get some rest.”

“So should you,” Wonshik said, also turning to face him. “We both know we’re not going to do that, though.”

Hongbin huffed, a rueful smile on his lips. “No rest for the wicked, I suppose.”

“We still have a few cultists to question,” Wonshik said, beginning to walk towards the door that led to the courtyard. Hongbin followed him. “I have new guards to choose, reports to write, documents to sign…”

“Take a break,” Hongbin insisted as they stepped outside again, the rain falling heavier now. “I’m sure the Castrum won’t fall apart if the Royal Captain takes a moment to breathe. I can handle everything in the meantime.”

Wonshik scoffed. “As if. I’m fine, Hongbin. You’re the one who should be taking a break.”

“I am perfectly well,” Hongbin promptly responded with an indignant little sniff.

“Sure you are.”

“I  _ am _ .”

“You think I don’t notice?” Wonshik asked, both of them now climbing the stairs to the battlements. “I see the light on your window all night. You haven’t been sleeping again.”

“If you know the light is on all night, then that means you, too, are not sleeping.”

“Touché.”

Hongbin shot Wonshik a sideways grin before continuing in a resigned tone. “I supposed there’s no point arguing. You will continue to do what you must, as will I, as will Sanghyuk. He hasn’t been sleeping either.”

“Who can blame him?” Wonshik murmured. Hongbin didn’t reply to that.

They continued on to the battlements, a comfortable but also charged silence hanging over them. Their silences were always like that, the ease of their old friendship and the weight of their feelings for each other, everything squeezed in the empty spaces between them, held together by Wonshik’s still very present hurt. It was there, always, whenever Hongbin looked at him, pain hidden in his eyes and in all the smiles he would offer Hongbin.

They stopped once they reached the top of the stairs, and Hongbin was the one to break the silence. “I know it’s useless telling you to rest, but do eat something, hm? I’ll know if you don’t.”

Wonshik chuckled through his nose and said, “As expected of the Royal Spymaster.”

“What can I say, I take my job very seriously,” Hongbin responded, simple, and turned east where he’d taken up residence ever since they moved in - there were two towers, one sitting on each extremity of the battlements on that side of the castle. Hongbin’s office and personal quarters were on the east tower; Wonshik’s, on the west tower. A blessing and a curse, truly, for Hongbin could see Wonshik sitting at his desk or pacing around his room through the window, the longing always present.

He always had to fight the urge to cross the battlements and join him.

“You should spend less time worrying about me and focus on yourself for a change,” Wonshik said, sterner than what Hongbin had grown used to. “You can’t nag me if you drop from exhaustion.”

“My, my, be still my heart,” Hongbin deadpanned and Wonshik rolled his eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do, since you asked so nicely.”

“I’m serious,” Wonshik emphasized. “If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”

Hongbin pursed his lips, exhaling sharply through his nose in annoyance. “That’s a cheap trick, Captain.”

“Only if it works,” Wonshik said with a smug side-smile and walked away towards his tower. Hongbin watched him go for only a few seconds before turning around and moving to his own quarters.

He made a mental note to tell one of the servants to bring him something to eat later.

 

✶✶✶

 

One very good thing about his quarters was that Hongbin had a great view of the courtyard - or, more specifically, the sparring ring where Wonshik trained his recruits in the morning. Watching Wonshik be the Captain of Royal Guard was always fascinating to him. The soldiers absolutely  _ loved _ him, and with good reason; Wonshik was strict when he had to be, but he was warm and friendly, patient with his teachings and had an eye for perfection that had already improved the security of the castle tremendously.

Wonshik was in his element now. Where he was meant to be.

It made Hongbin proud.

“Are you listening to me?” Chansik asked, only raising his voice a little. Hongbin hummed in response, and Chansik sighed. “This is the last time I come to meet you up here, next time we’re going somewhere without windows so you can’t be distracted by your boy-toy’s rippling muscles.”

“He’s wearing his armor, I can’t see his muscles,” Hongbin promptly pointed out, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Wonshik all the way down in the courtyard and turn his attention to Chansik, “and he’s not my boy-toy.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night,” Chansik said dismissively. “Did you hear a word of what I said?”

“Something something found a lead,” Hongbin replied, bland, as he walked back to his desk, where Chansik had left his report. 

“I’ve found  _ all  _ the leads,” Chansik corrected him, impatient. “Or, well, I’ve found some leads, Sunwoo found the rest. We’ve found them all, though.”

“Good,” Hongbin said, looking over all the information Chansik (and Sunwoo) had gathered. “I wish I could do more for them. Hakyeon is dear to me, and Taekwoon— He’s family too, now.”

Chansik watched him for a long moment before saying, “This is  _ good _ , Kong. Great. You’re doing great.”

Hongbin snorted at the words. “Thanks. Who would’ve known I’d turn into such a sap.”

“Actually… I’ve always known,” Chansik stated, pushing himself off the chair he’d been occupying. “You act tough and pretend you eat the hearts of your enemies for breakfast, but really you’re just a softie.”

“Get out of my office.”

Chansik cackled -  _ cackled _ \- as he made his way out, closing the door behind him with just force enough that it echoed on the stone walls. Hongbin rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head, turning his eyes back to the report in front of him. He’d been working on it on Hakyeon’s request as a side project so far, something only between the two of them - and Chansik and Sunwoo also, in a way - and to have it actually  _ work— _ Hakyeon would be very pleased. He hoped Taekwoon would be happy, too, as it was all for his sake in the end.

He’d hoped to have  _ something _ for Hakyeon before the couple left to their new estate, but it seemed the comings and goings of Dalish elves were harder to track than one would think. He would have to make use of ravens to get the information to him, although it would be best to send a courier.

He trusted ravens better than people, though. Fear and Deceit not included.

Hongbin’s feet, which had a mind of their own, caused him to wander back towards the window as he read the report, and when he lifted his gaze from the parchment he found himself looking down at the courtyard again, Wonshik now running some drills with his soldiers. He wanted to share what he was doing with Wonshik, have a second opinion on whether or not this was a good idea at all, but he had to stop seeking Wonshik for any form of validation. He didn’t want to somehow influence Wonshik’s impression of him, woo him through his acts of kindness, even if unintentionally.

This was not for Wonshik. This was for Hakyeon and for Taekwoon, just a little something that was within his reach to give.

He didn’t need to parade his good deeds in front of Wonshik. If Wonshik ever decided to take him back, he didn’t want it to be because of his oh so virtuous endeavors. If Wonshik took him back, Hongbin wanted it to be for who he was, the good parts of him, but the ugly ones too. He didn’t want to cover up the bad by using altruism as a blanket.

So he forced himself to look away again and focus on the report in his hands.

 

✶✶✶

 

Hongbin was fairly certain that particular cultist didn’t know that much at that point. He was the last one of the remaining prisoners they kept alive for questioning, and they had been at it for the past three hours or so. Both himself and Wonshik were tired, had already asked all the questions they needed answers to over a dozen times each, and Hongbin could tell when someone was lying. This guy wasn’t. He just really didn’t know much.

He had been on the higher ranks of the Somnavaris, though. He knew some things, things the average member of the cult wouldn’t know, but those details were already revealed to them by previous prisoners. Hongbin was hoping this man would shed a light on other matters - the motivations, the goals of the cult, how far was their reach, their hiding places. What he knew was very generic, though. Surface stuff, nonsense about dragons being the superior species, about how they wanted to bring back the days of the Old Gods, more insight on the previous Arcane Advisor’s rapidly declining sanity.

He _ wanted to become the dragon _ , is what the prisoner said.

Madness.

Hongbin sighed, exhausted, and looked over at Wonshik to find he was in a much similar state. Wonshik met his gaze and they exchanged a quiet shake of their heads. The guy knew nothing, no point in continuing.

Hongbin, however, had other questions. Unrelated to the cult itself, but important to him, personally.

“You mentioned you were involved in money trading within the cult, meaning you took care of paying any hirelings,” Hongbin said. He noticed Wonshik looking at him questioningly, but ignored it. “Were you also involved in the hiring of any personnel or middlemen?”

“I— I—” the man stuttered, looking from Hongbin to Wonshik and back again to Hongbin. “N-not directly, all I did was paperwork.”

“Hm,” Hongbin hummed, shifting his stance where he was leaning against the wall. The stone walls of the dungeon weren’t very comfortable for leaning. “I’m assuming you had background information on the people you hired.”

“S-some for the sake of leverage, I— I knew nothing about you, I swear!” the man explained, eyes wide with terror. Hongbin merely arched an eyebrow at him, unbothered. “I didn’t share the information we had on you with anyone, I promise, please—”

“This is not about me,” Hongbin interrupted, raising one hand to stop the man from talking. It worked. “I don’t give a shit about the dirt you could dig from my past.”

Wonshik was openly staring at him now. Hongbin continued to ignore him.

“The man who hired me, the creepy thin one,” Hongbin said. “What is his name?”

“I— I d-don’t know, I— He was— I don’t know anything about him, he— Everyone just called him Bak.”

Bak. Thin Man was called Bak. Or, at least, that was his alias. A start.

“I see. I also want to know about another bard you hired,” Hongbin finally reached the point he’d been meaning to get to. “A woman. She introduced herself to me as Sooyeon. Ring any bells?”

The man licked his lips nervously, hesitating to speak. He looked over at Wonshik, almost pleading with his eyes.

“Answer the question,” Wonshik quietly said. The man made a strange, squeaky type of sound in the back of his throat. That was already enough of a clue for Hongbin to know that, whatever he was about to hear, it wouldn’t be good.

“I don’t— I didn’t have anything to do with it, I swear!” it was the first coherent thing that came out of the man’s mouth. A bad start. “I was just the accountant!”

“I don’t care what you were or weren’t, we’ve already questioned you about your duties inside the cult,” Hongbin said, firm despite how tired he felt. He’d have to take a nap after this. “Tell me what happened to the bard.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man repeated like a mantra for several seconds before changing his tune, “she was asking too many questions! The higher-ups they— They didn’t like that so they— She’s—”

“She’s dead,” Hongbin completed, and again the man made a strange, terrified little sound. Nothing he didn’t expect, but he’d hoped to be wrong. Wonshik was staring at him again. “You’re going to give me all the information you can remember about her and the man you called Bak. Anything and everything you know.”

It wasn’t much.

By the time Hongbin was done squeezing every last drop of information he could about Sooyeon from the man, the number of things he’d found could be counted on the finger of one of his hands. About ‘Bak’, even less. The man would be executed in a couple of days, the fastest, cleanest and least painful death they could offer him - that was the deal. Be good and answer the questions, and you won’t suffer. Refuse to cooperate— 

He could hear Wonshik’s footsteps behind him as they made their way out of the dungeons, climbed the stone steps back to the main floor of the palace. He’d been quiet so far, hadn’t spoken anything while Hongbin interrogated their prisoner, but he felt that was about to change.

He was right. “Hongbin, who is this bard you were asking about?”

Hongbin stopped halfway through the spiral stairs and turned back to Wonshik. It was dark there, the only sources of light the few lamps hanging sporadically from the walls, the candles casting an orange glow over them. Wonshik stopped too, only one step lower from the one Hongbin was standing.

Wonshik knew about the Thin Man, knew he had been the one responsible for dealing with Hongbin and trading information, but not about Sooyeon.

“She was—” Hongbin started, but stopped himself. They weren’t friends, not really. Allies, perhaps, although Hongbin was the first to admit he’d been a very shitty one. “She tried to warn me about the cultists. About them not being trustworthy.” He finally said, and even that sounded insufficient to him. “I didn’t listen to her.”

“Bean—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Hongbin interrupted him, and while it wasn’t something he cared to explore too deeply, he was telling the truth. He was fine. He’d already known what happened to Sooyeon, he’d just needed the confirmation. “I was hoping to find out more about her, see if there was anything I could do in case she left behind any unfinished business.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Wonshik said, and Hongbin gave him a sideways look.

“It’s not kindness. It’s guilt,” he said. “She risked herself trying to warn me and I didn’t listen. If I had, then maybe— She’d be alive. Hakyeon wouldn’t have almost died. I wouldn’t have needed to leave you that night.” Hongbin listed, not missing the way Wonshik’s expression darkened at the mention of ‘that night’. “I feel like me not listening to her was the beginning of the snowball of unfortunate events we had to go through.”

“You can’t know that.”

Hongbin rolled his shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “I guess. I still want to do something on her behalf. The cultist mentioned she had family in Orlais, so I’ll start there.”

“It’s still kind of you to want to do something to help her family.”

Hongbin bit his tongue and didn’t reply. He almost wanted to tell him of the side work he’d been doing on Hakyeon’s (and Taekwoon’s) behalf, on how he’d found everything Hakyeon had asked him to find, how he’d already sent the information over to them just a few days ago. Part of him wanted to know Wonshik saw him as a nice person who did good deeds for his friends, wanted the validation and praise that came with it, but he kept quiet.

Even him wanting to help Sooyeon’s family - a sister, the cultist had said, still very young - wasn’t something he’d wanted to tell Wonshik. He told him because he’d asked and Hongbin wanted to be honest. It wasn’t about Wonshik’s perception of him. It bothered him to know that Wonshik might see this as an act. Hongbin? Being kind? Likely a fabrication.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonshik asked suddenly and reached out to hold Hongbin’s hand. He jolted at the touch, surprised - he wasn’t expecting it in the slightest. “You have a weird look on your face.”

“That’s just how my face looks.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Shik,” he said, willing his facial muscles to reset to their default positions, back to neutrality. “I’m just tired, we’ve been down here for hours.”

“You’re right,” Wonshik easily agreed, starting to walk up the stairs again and pulling Hongbin along by the hand he was still holding. “I’m starving, let’s go get something to eat,” Wonshik said, still showing no signs he was planning on letting go of Hongbin’s hand any time soon. “We can eat in the gardens?”

Hongbin’s mind was completely blank - that sounded like a date, for some reason. Should he agree? Make up an excuse?

Wonshik sounded so earnest, though. It should be fine, right? Just two friends, spending time together after a stressful day. It should be fine. It would be fine.

“That sounds nice,” Hongbin finally answered.

The sunlit smile Wonshik gave him already made that decision worth it.

 

✶✶✶

 

Sparring with Wonshik was always fun - Hongbin could be near him without having to come up with excuses, and Wonshik had gotten exponentially better against dual-wielding opponents. It made Hongbin proud and much less concerned that a random rogue would swoop in and hurt Wonshik. At least not  _ too _ badly.

Hongbin liked that, when they were sparring, Wonshik’s attention would be entirely turned to him. The world didn’t matter, the crowd of people that always seemed to gather to watch them didn’t matter; it was just them. It almost felt like it had once long ago, when they were just dumb kids playing by the edge of the Minanter with sticks, pretending to be knights.

They weren’t kids anymore, and Wonshik was a real knight. Things had changed. They had changed.

Although, in hindsight, they were still just as dumb.

They had been there for a while now, the better part of an hour. Hongbin stood his ground as he watched Wonshik circle around him, sword gripped tight in his hand and eyes searching - searching for a weakness, for a crack in Hongbin’s focus, whatever edge he could find. Hongbin had to wonder, though, why - Maker,  _ why _ \- did Wonshik have to spar with him without a shirt on - on one hand, it was summer and the Nevarran sun was merciless, but on the other hand he had no protection in case Hongbin ended up slashing him by accident. Or was that the plan, to make himself more vulnerable so Hongbin wouldn’t go all out on him?

That was stupid. Hongbin always went all out when it came to fighting, Wonshik should know better.

Or, and Hongbin felt stupid for even considering, Wonshik was trying to get a rise out of him. Or seduce him, which was pointless since Hongbin had been properly and thoroughly seduced long ago. Or maybe dangle himself before Hongbin like a juicy piece of meat in front of a starving dog to taunt him -  _ hey, here’s what you had and lost and will never have again! _

Whatever the reason, Shirtless Wonshik never failed to attract a considerable amount of people, most of them the young lady servants of the Castrum, who all gathered around the sparring ring to ogle the Captain of the Royal Guard. Like moths to a flame. Hongbin really hoped they got burned, but alas, it wasn’t his right to wish for anything at that point. He only took what was offered to him freely, and forced himself to pretend it was enough.

Wonshik finally made his move, charging at Hongbin from his left side - a good thought, as Hongbin usually favored his right hand, but ultimately useless. Hongbin easily blocked his first blow and stepped around Wonshik, gracefully twirling away and behind him in a way that would certainly make Hakyeon proud. Wonshik seemed to have this coming, to have known Hongbin would dodge him, because before his sword ever finished falling he was already spinning around, forcing Hongbin to lean back to avoid being struck by the blade. Hongbin laughed, chest filled with pride.

“You got better,” Hongbin said as he straightened himself back up in the blink of an eye to block Wonshik’s next blow, daggers crossed over his head where Wonshik had aimed. Wonshik wanting to crack his skull open was, granted, a reasonable wish to have.

“Only because you keep me on my toes,” Wonshik teased back with a sideways grin. Damn him, making Hongbin’s heart to that weird flippy thing in the middle of their sparring session.

Hongbin chuckled and spun around again, using the daggers to force Wonshik’s sword to hit the ground while he stepped safely away and around him. “Better, but still not enough to beat me.”

Wonshik laughed at that, not bothered by the comment, and stepped away from Hongbin’s range to recover from that first round. Hongbin didn’t ease his stance while he waited. “You could at least offer a word of encouragement.”

“Was that not encouragement? Get better and you might win against me?” Hongbin asked with a smug smirk playing on his lips, and Wonshik rolled his eyes before advancing again, not as fast as before but with the same purpose, the same focus.

“You suck at pep talk,” Wonshik said, and swung his sword in an arc without warning at him. Hongbin sidestepped away easily.

“You don’t need any, though,” Hongbin replied, finally deciding to stop dancing around Wonshik and charge at him.

Wonshik dodged the first few strikes with ease, the sound of Hongbin’s daggers hitting the metal of his blade loud despite the noise around them. It was always a thrill when that happened, the union of two of Hongbin’s favorite things - violence and Wonshik.

Not that he would ever physically harm Wonshik, but trying to stab people was Hongbin’s favorite thing to do. Maybe that should be considered a problem. Maybe.

Hongbin thrust one of the daggers at Wonshik’s left side and, to Hongbin’s surprise, Wonshik didn’t dodge - he grabbed Hongbin’s wrist and pulled him forward to himself, a brief puff of air escaping Hongbin’s lungs once his chest hit Wonshik’s with a little more force than expected.

“I’ve lost all hope of beating you in a fight, Bean,” Wonshik said, still holding Hongbin’s wrist firmly behind his own back, preventing Hongbin from moving away. “If I want to win against you, I have to kill you with kindness.”

Wonshik was so close, close enough that they were breathing the same air, his face only inches away. How easy it would be to close that distance, to drop the act and just take what he wanted like he always did, but he couldn’t - there was a line he shouldn’t cross with Wonshik, a line he’d drawn himself when he decided to do what he did.

Hongbin faltered for a moment, something only Wonshik was able to do to him, before he recovered and said with a side smile, “Good thing you haven’t lost your grip on reality.”

“I haven’t lost a lot of things,” Wonshik said back, just as Hongbin felt the cold edge of Wonshik’s sword on the back of his neck. Hongbin’s grin widened with delight, both because Wonshik was finally learning to use his weaknesses against him and because that was also for naught.

“Are you sure?”

To emphasize, Hongbin gently pressed the tips of his daggers to Wonshik’s bare skin, one to his back where Wonshik was still holding his wrist, and the other one right under his ribcage with his free hand. There was a flash of realization in Wonshik’s face before he laughed and lowered his sword. Hongbin lowered his daggers as well after a heartbeat longer.

“Alright, I get it, I should pay more attention to my surroundings,” Wonshik said. He was still holding Hongbin’s wrist at his back, and gave no indication he was planning to let him go any time soon. Not that Hongbin was complaining.

“I can’t blame you for not doing that earlier, I’ve been told my face is very pleasant to look at.”

Wonshik rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You know you’re gorgeous, you don’t have to act coy about it.”

“Keeping a semblance of humility makes it easier to deceive people, dear.”

“I would know.”

Hongbin bit his tongue not to react outwardly to that jab - yes, Wonshik would know about Hongbin being deceitful, wouldn’t he?

“Yes, I suppose you would,” Hongbin replied coolly, as coolly as he could considering that veiled accusation had been as painful and deadly as a knife to the heart. “May I have my hand back now?”

“No.”

“No?” Hongbin question, one eyebrow arched. “Do you need my hand for something?”

“Eager to run off?” Wonshik asked again, and again the accusation in those words hit Hongbin like a slap across the face.

That caused him to shift, going from the sidestepping he’d been doing around the subject to a head-on strike. “Run off? I literally jumped from the top of a tower just to come back to you. Or have you forgotten?”

Wonshik’s expression faltered and he looked away from Hongbin, his grip on his wrist loosening enough that Hongbin could have easily pulled his hand away - he didn’t. “I imagine it was a very high tower.”

“Yes, quite. You can see it from the battlements, in fact,” Hongbin informed, going back to trying to sound unaffected. “Or maybe I can take you there so you can see it for yourself.”

“I— No, there’s no need. I believe you,” Wonshik stammered and released Hongbin’s wrist completely, giving Hongbin no choice but to let it fall limp next to his body again. “I don’t want to see it.”

“Very well,” Hongbin granted and stepped back, away from Wonshik, “we should wrap up for today, we both have work to see to.”

“R-right, yes,” Wonshik stuttered, shifting awkwardly where he stood before he turned around and began moving towards the weapon rack at one side of the ring, sparing Hongbin no more glances or words.

Hongbin watched him go, chest tight, heavy with all the conflicted emotions stuffed inside his ribcage, the urge to run after Wonshik and hold him and never let him go against the cowardly desire to run and hide from all his sins, all his mistakes, his regrets. There was hope for him, he knew - Wonshik’s actions and words spoke of second chances, but Hongbin wasn’t stupid or naive enough to think Wonshik wasn’t still hurt, because pain was also constantly present in their interactions. Time. It would take time.

It had been a little over a year. Time. How much more time would it take for them to bend or break? He was tired of living in that limbo, but he could not see himself giving up on Wonshik any time soon.

Grin and bear it. All he could do.

And then he was reminded that, while he wasn’t willing to let go of Wonshik, Wonshik could be of a different mind. Hongbin watched as one of the girls that had been in the small crowd approached Wonshik carrying a waterskin in her hands and a big stupid smile on her pretty face, all rosy cheeks and bright eyes. He watched Wonshik smile back at the girl and accept the water, he watched the girl lean close to Wonshik to say something to him - probably to compliment him or to show concern over whether he was injured or not. Were Hongbin trying to flirt with Wonshik, he might have done the same.

He wasn’t flirting with Wonshik, though. They were way past that, had been for a long time; Hongbin’s place in Wonshik’s life, even if not what he hoped to be, was secured. 

Maybe that girl’s flirting would work. Maybe Wonshik would fall for her, get married, spawn a bunch of noisy brats who in a very dark future would be running around Castrum Draconis calling him “uncle Bin” and pulling at his cape. He shuddered at the thought, and shied away from the image of Wonshik in someone else’s arms.

That future would be dark (very, very dark) for himself, but— Wonshik would be happy. That’s what was important in the end, wasn’t it?

Grin and bear it.

Just before he finally turned around and slinked back into the quiet comfort of his quarters, Wonshik looked back at him and their eyes met, a quiet exchange between them. Hongbin had no idea what Wonshik was seeing in his expression, but whatever it was, it caused him to stare at him with guilt, like he had done something wrong. What could Wonshik have done to feel guilty about? Nothing.

So Hongbin forced himself to smile, a feeble, barely there lift of the corners of his mouth, and finally walked away.

 

✶✶✶

 

Hongbin tapped lightly on the door with the knuckles of one hand, the tray of food precariously balanced on the other. Luckily for him, the permission to enter came soon and Hongbin quickly pushed open the door and went inside.

Wonshik’s office was exactly what one would expect a soldier’s office to look like - only the bare minimum, no flare, no concern for aesthetics. There was a sturdy oak desk against a wall, directly in front of a window for the sake of getting as much sunlight as possible to read without needing to light a candle, a couple of bookshelves filled with mostly stacks of official documents instead of actual books, a wooden training dummy in one corner with more sword gashes than Hongbin could count, and a dart game hanging from the wall in front of the desk. The door that led upstairs, to Wonshik’s actual bedroom, was closed; Hongbin had never been up there, had no clue what it looked like.

“Hey,” he said in quick greeting as he kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot. “I asked around and the servants in the kitchen told me you haven’t gone down to eat and that they didn’t bring anything up, so here I am.”

Wonshik looked up from whatever it was he’d been focused on, blinking rapidly as he took in Hongbin’s presence; he was probably expecting a servant or one of the guards, judging from the mild surprise on his face. “Oh. Right. Thanks, Bean.”

Hongbin simply hummed, approaching the desk to set down the tray. There wasn’t much - a cut of meat, some bread, a little bit of cheese. The small pitcher full of wine was the reason he had to balance it carefully, that thing made it very easy to spill it over the place.

Wonshik made room for the tray by moving a messy stack of papers from on side of the desk to the other. “What time is it?”

“A little past midnight.”

“What!?” Wonshik startled, eyes wide as he stared at Hongbin like he was expecting him to say he was joking.

Hongbin didn’t laugh. “Whatever you’re working on must be very important.”

“I— Yes,” Wonshik said, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up every direction. Hongbin wanted to reach out, smooth it down, but refrained. “We have a few new recruits, so I was reworking the patrol roster, figuring out their new stations, training schedule—”

“And forgetting to eat, now,” Hongbin interrupted and tapped on the wood next to the tray with the tip of his index finger, “dig in.”

Wonshik heaved a tired sigh and began moving the documents he’d been reading to open room in front of him, and only then he pulled the tray closer. A little bit of wine spilled with the sudden motion and Hongbin scowled - he’d done such a good job not spilling it all the way from the kitchens only for Wonshik to make it all useless. There was something about Wonshik’s overall appearance, though. Something about the line of his shoulders and the look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Hongbin asked, watching as Wonshik poked the piece of bread on the tray with a finger absently.

“I thought we’d be getting more recruits at this point. Our numbers are... not ideal. If something happens—” Wonshik trailed off, gaze fixed on the wall in front of him, jaw clenched. Hongbin didn’t have to ask - the fear of a new attack was constantly front and center in Wonshik’s mind, and truly, nobody could blame him for that; he’d lost people he cared about during the massacre, yes, but more than that, the entire ordeal had left a bad taste in Wonshik’s mouth, a taste of guilt and regret, of not being enough to protect people like he was trained to do. Like he believed he should be able to do. “We don’t have enough manpower to secure the Castrum in case of a large-scale attack.”

“You’re forgetting to take my agents into account there, bunny,” Hongbin reminded him, gentle in the way he only knew how to be when around Wonshik. The nickname was an accident, likely not appropriate for the moment, but he couldn’t find it in himself to take it back. “The best way to be prepared is through information, and of that we have plenty. A large attack would take much resource and planning, and I would know about it. Besides,” he paused, offering Wonshik a smile, “the last attack was only successful because it was planned from the inside and with the help of blood magic. We did a background check on every single one of the servants and guards, only hired trustworthy people. You have time to gather more recruits, Shik.”

“I know. Logically, I know. But the thought of something like that happening again—”

“I know, bunny,” Hongbin murmured and finally gave in to his previous urge to run his fingers through Wonshik’s hair. It wasn’t for him, he told himself, it was for Wonshik, to soothe Wonshik’s tension. “It won’t happen. We won’t let it, but to do that you can’t work yourself until you collapse.”

Wonshik huffed through his nose, bitter amusement. “Look who’s talking.”

“I am very aware of my limits and I only push them when necessary,” Hongbin reminded him with just a hint of defensiveness.

Wonshik slumped back on his chair, eyelids falling closed presumably to enjoy Hongbin’s touch on his hair. “Whatever you say, Bean.” After a beat of silence, he said, “I don’t understand why the recruits aren’t coming. They used to have to turn people away, and now—”

“Sanghyuk’s father was respected, but he was also well loved by the people,” Hongbin took it upon himself to explain, not stopping the caresses on Wonshik’s hair for even a second. “Sanghyuk is respected, but he’s not loved - not yet. He’s been in mourning ever since he took the throne, and while he is doing a great job as a king, the people haven’t connected with him yet, not enough to want to die for him.”

“So what do we do, make Sanghyuk go on a tour to meet his subjects?” Wonshik asked, sardonic, and Hongbin snorted at it.

“Oh please, like we could convince him to go outside for more than ten minutes. No, this is something that will only change with time,” Hongbin replied, a little more serious. Emboldened by how Wonshik was so receptive of his touch, he slid his hand to Wonshik’s nape, running his nails through the soft hair there; Wonshik hummed in approval. “But you have to be prepared if it takes longer than what you hope for. I don’t underestimate Sanghyuk’s ability to heal, but he might never be a very warm, personable king, because that takes a certain level of vulnerability he might not feel comfortable having again.  Jaehwan— He might not ever come back,” the words were hard to say, but they were the truth, “and we both know Jaehwan is the only one who can bring back the Sanghyuk we know.”

“It’s not fair,” Wonshik said, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “Sanghyuk is a good king. He’s a king I’m honored to serve, whether we are friends or not. He’s fair and he cares about the people, he’s making a difference, but people can’t see past his grief.”

“And the scales.”

“...And the scales.”

“The Dragon King of Nevarra,” Hongbin spoke the nickname given to Sanghyuk by foreign nations. “He has their respect already, and his reserved personality makes him unpredictable, which means there is some fear mixed in with it. Serving in the Royal Guard, however, takes commitment - they saw what happened to the last one. They know that, when they pledge themselves to the crown, that means that they might have to give their lives. It’s not something anyone can do, not without love. Sanghyuk needs to prove himself worthy of that love - once he does, the recruits will come.”

“I guess it doesn’t help that he’s been breaking tradition left and right,” Wonshik bitterly commented. “In his coronation, he downright said he won’t take a queen or an advisor, he took away a good amount of the Mortalitasi’s political power, he doesn’t show up to public events in national holidays, he didn’t throw the Autumn Ball this year—”

“Everyone understood that decision—”

“—and he won’t cater to the nobility who could actually help him build some bridges. I’m the first one to want to keep nobles away, but this is harmful to him in the grand scheme of things.”

Hongbin chuckled, starting to massage the back of Wonshik’s neck - the muscles there were tense with pent-up stress. “Look at you, taking politics into account. I’m so proud.”

“I thought you didn’t care about politics,” Wonshik said, head tilting towards Hongbin when he looked over at him.

Hongbin shrugged and finally began pulling his hand away from Wonshik. He didn’t want to get carried away. “I didn’t have to care about politics before, it doesn’t mean I never took it into account. I do work for a king now, so that’s changed.”

Before he could pull his hand away completely, Wonshik grabbed it and held it there. Hongbin’s immediate reaction was to freeze. “Bean, wait.”

“Do you need me for something?” Hongbin asked, somehow managing not to stutter his words. His heartbeat, however, was a different matter.

“Why do I have to need you for something? Can’t I enjoy having you around?”

Hongbin only gave Wonshik a deadpan look, to which Wonshik gave an eye-roll in return.

“Eat your late dinner and go to bed, Shikkie,” Hongbin said, gently pulling his hand away and out of Wonshik’s grasp.

“Hongbin—” Wonshik called, getting up from that chair much faster than Hongbin expected him to be able to, considering how tired he was. “I— Uhm, thanks. For bringing me food.”

Hongbin’s lips twitched with the urge to smile, and he bit back the mention that Wonshik had already thanked him when he first came in. Instead he only said, “Anytime.”

“I just— I don’t think I say or show enough how grateful I am that you’re here.”

Hongbin arched an eyebrow, the urge to smile completely gone now. “You mean that I’m  _ still _ here.”

Wonshik huffed, running one hand through his hair like he did when he got frustrated. “You know you don’t always have to ruin the moment, right?”

Hongbin allowed himself to laugh at that. “Sorry. It’s a trait of my personality at this point.”

“Not one of the most attractive ones,” Wonshik murmured, and when did he get so close? Hongbin should probably find the nearest exit.

“The same can be said about the vast majority of them,” Hongbin tried joking as he stepped back, but at the angle he was in, all he accomplished was to get himself boxed in by the desk behind him. When did he get so distracted, so clumsy? He definitely wasn’t like this back when he was a bard. Maybe those had truly been his golden years.

“That’s true,” Wonshik bluntly agreed and Hongbin let out a little indignant gasp, giving him a slap on the arm for effect. Wonshik chortled at that very minor display of violence and wrapped his arms around Hongbin’s waist, which, despite how distracted and clumsy he was, he didn’t fail to notice. “I’m sorry, I was joking.”

“That’s— That’s alright,” Hongbin stammered, tripping over his words with how close Wonshik was, bodies almost completely pressed to one another. He should leave. He should excuse himself and leave, tell Wonshik he was tired and not thinking straight and that he would regret everything in the morning, but his voice refused to work.

In fact, a lot of things refused to work besides his voice - he couldn’t move, even if Wonshik’s hold on him wasn’t restricting, and he couldn’t look away from Wonshik’s eyes. And Wonshik was so  _ warm, _ and Hongbin knew that, ever since they were kids, Wonshik’s skin was warmer than his, as Hongbin’s temperature was always on the colder side, but at that moment it was almost stifling.

He should leave. He should push Wonshik away and leave. He’d been good, he’d been  _ so _ good and all his effort was about to go to shit because he was just that weak when it came to Wonshik, and Wonshik was going to regret everything and then all their chances would be ruined and—

...and Wonshik was kissing him.

The touch of Wonshik’s lips on his was all it took for the dam to break, for all his control to come tumbling down. Like knocking over a house of cards by disturbing one of the cards at its base, one small action and it was all over, all his hard work crumbled to a heap on the ground.

As he looped his arms around Wonshik’s neck, as he kissed him back with all the longing he’d been keeping inside, he allowed himself to think this was it. Maybe Wonshik was ready after all, to forgive him and take him back, to take them to the next stage, to give Hongbin that chance to prove he wouldn’t go anywhere, not anymore, not ever again. He could feel it in the way Wonshik was holding him, kissing him, like he really wanted that for them too, like he thought of Hongbin as someone special and not the sorry bastard who broke his heart time and time again.

He thought of all the pretty servants who constantly threw themselves at Wonshik, men and women who were certainly better people, better options than him, but Wonshik still chose Hongbin despite him being the worst possible choice. Stupid, but Hongbin wasn’t complaining.

Wonshik pulled him closer, pressed flush against him, hands firm on his back, and maybe Hongbin could have this.  _ Really _ have this, be with Wonshik and stop playing whatever game they were playing and be happy— 

A sound from outside, someone dropping something on the courtyard below, shattered the moment and both Wonshik and Hongbin jumped back, away from each other, a heavy silence following the interruption. Hongbin could hardly catch his breath over how fast his heart was beating, Wonshik staring at him wide-eyed and flushed with desire and, Hongbin guessed, shame. His lips were red and swollen, shiny and inviting, and by the Maker, Hongbin wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, continue what they’ve been doing, maybe finally get to see Wonshik’s bedroom upstairs.

Instead, he stepped around the desk and began making his way to the door, saying over his shoulder, “Eat your food and go to bed.” 

 If Wonshik replied, he didn’t hear it - he simply slipped through the door and closed it softly behind himself.

 

✶✶✶

 

Hongbin already knew he would find Wonshik by the memorial in the gardens - the memorial for all the lives lost during the massacre, the one Sanghyuk had ordered made the same day he was crowned king. It was a simple, plain obelisk, made of polished white marble, with a long golden plaque carved with all the names of those lost that night - the obelisk was as tall as the list of names, so— Very tall.

It was where Wonshik went anytime he had something on his mind, and, considering what happened between them the night before, Wonshik would absolutely have something on his mind.

He was right.

Wonshik was standing before the memorial, head bowed and eyes closed - praying. Wonshik always turned to prayer in times like that. Hongbin hated to interrupt, but— It was necessary after that slip. He approached him carefully, slowly, but didn’t bother trying to be quiet. Wonshik should hear him coming, a courtesy Hongbin liked to think he would appreciate. A chance to prepare.

He stopped next to him, looking up at the obelisk, eyes not lingering on any particular name on the plaque. There were so many of them. Hongbin could still remember how long it took them to figure out the numbers, learn all the names, the names of all the nobility, servants and soldiers who lost their lives that day. Hundreds.

“I’m sorry,” Wonshik was the first to speak, to Hongbin’s surprise. He still had his eyes closed and head low. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Hongbin murmured, like speaking any higher would be disrespectful considering the location. Strange - Hongbin didn’t usually care.

“If I don’t have to be sorry, why did you run?”

Hongbin didn’t have an answer to that.

Seeing that Hongbin would not speak, Wonshik sighed, tired, and said, “Bean… It’s been almost two years. What are we doing?”

“Our best?” Hongbin tried to lighten up the mood with a joke, but all he got was a groan from Wonshik. After a deep breath, he tried again with a little more seriousness, “I’m working hard to become a better person because I want you to be able to trust me again, but we both know I’ll never get there.”

“You did break my trust and there’s no way to fully patch that up,” Wonshik agreed, “but you were never a bad person, Binnie.”

Hongbin scoffed. Now that was a good joke. “Right.”

“I mean it. Doing what you have to do to survive doesn’t make you bad.”

“Enjoying it does.”

“Bean—”

“What? My regrets only come into play when it comes to you and our friends. The people I harmed outside that spectrum? I don’t give a shit and I would do it all again,” Hongbin said, and Wonshik raised his head to give him a sideways glare. Hongbin shrugged, simplistic. “Don’t like it? It’s the truth. The people I killed, I’d kill them again and again and I don’t feel bad about it. The things I’ve stolen, the lies I’ve told, I don’t regret it. Trying to turn it around now won’t change that - but you already know all of that.”

“Why do you do this?” Wonshik asked with an annoyed huff, looking up at the obelisk. “It’s like you  _ want _ me to not forgive you.”

“And it’s like you want to ignore that I’m a criminal at heart.”

“I’m not ignoring it. I’m seeing past it.”

“A nice way to say you’re ignoring it.”

“Hongbin—” Wonshik started but stopped himself as if reconsidering. “I know who you are. I know you revel in violence and mayhem, and I know you have a lot of resentment towards the world in general, but that’s not all you are. Nobody is all good, but nobody is all bad either.”

“I know that.”

“Do you really?”

Hongbin pursed his lips, annoyed at how good Wonshik was getting at leaving him speechless. Finally, he said, “So what do you want?”

“What I want I can’t have,” Wonshik replied, grim. “What I want is to turn back time. Before you betrayed us, before the massacre, before you left Nevarra— I want to have a chance to do things differently.”

“You’re right, that’s not something you can have,” Hongbin agreed, looking at the plaque again. “Who knows, had things gone otherwise, maybe you’d have married your servant friend.”

“Jimin? Maybe,” Wonshik said, musing, as he looked up at the plaque as well. Wonshik knew exactly where Jimin’s name was etched into the gold, always the same spot he would fix his gaze when he came to the memorial. “She was a good person. Kind, smart, fun. She made the world better.”

“And yet she’s gone and I’m here. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not like you make the world a bad place,” Wonshik said and gave him a look Hongbin could only describe as fond. He didn’t deserve it. Turning back to the obelisk, smile gone, Wonshik continued, “I can’t help but think I could have saved her. If I didn’t send her back to the ballroom—”

“You thought you were protecting her from me,” Hongbin spoke, low and demure. “You couldn’t have known I wasn’t the threat you should be worried about. Not even I knew.”

Wonshik didn’t speak for a long stretch of time, seconds ticking by slowly until he said, “I just wanted what was best for her.”

“Sometimes we hold onto something so tight we don’t realize we’re breaking it until it’s shattered. I would know.”

Wonshik heaved a sigh at that. “You would, wouldn’t you?” Another pause followed before Wonshik turned his gaze from the plaque towards Hongbin. “What do  _ you _ want?”

“I want you to be happy. No matter what, that’s all I want,” Hongbin replied. “With me, without me, doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, not to me. I’m prepared to accept any outcome, from you becoming a priest to you marrying someone and having a horde of brats that will annoy me to no end.”

“And yet the thought that I might actually want  _ you _ seems to have somehow escaped that carefully thought out equation.”

Hongbin scoffed, a bitter grin on his face. “What are the odds of that happening?”

“Not as low as you think.”

“That almost sounds like we want the same thing.”

“If by that you mean we want each other, yes, we do want the same thing,” Wonshik said, a little too bluntly, too suddenly. “There is one problem, though.”

“Sanghyuk.”

“Sanghyuk,” Wonshik confirmed. “We’re losing sight of what should be the priority here. What we talked about last night— We should be focusing on helping Sanghyuk rule instead of figuring out our very complicated relationship status.”

“You’re right,” Hongbin agreed. “Sanghyuk is not exactly trying very hard to pick himself up, and now the Conclave is approaching and we need him to be at least functional. He’s getting worse.”

“Did he get out of his room today?”

“Only to spend the day cooped up in the study instead.”

“Oh. Well, at least he got out of the room.”

Hongbin chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I feel like we’re parenting a particularly difficult teenager.”

“If the teenager is drowning in a pit of depression, yes, that’s us,” Wonshik joked, but that too was not meant to make them laugh. They were both tired, and bitterness was a natural sentiment to have at that point. Or, at least, that’s what Hongbin kept telling himself. “Let’s agree to put  _ this _ on hold,” Wonshik gestured between them to emphasize what he meant, “at least until Sanghyuk is doing better. You know, bathing without being told to, eating without being forced to, getting out of bed without you threatening him.”

“That might take a long time,” Hongbin wisely pointed out.

“Worried I might change my mind?”

“Hoping you’ll come to your senses, actually.”

Wonshik chuckled, and that was a little more genuine. “We’ll see about that, I guess.”

 

✶✶✶

 

Everything was a mess. It was a very large, very spread out mess that happened at the blink of an eye and now all of Thedas had to deal with it. Conclave? Failed. Divine? Dead. Sky? Well, there was a hole in it that kept spitting demons everywhere. And now they had this Inquisition to deal with, and really? Hongbin thought they could be doing a lot better, all things considered. Not that he could complain.

He was reading over a report from Chansik, one regarding his inquiries about Sooyeon’s sister - Chansik had found her, for all intents and purposes, so now Hongbin had to think of a way to reach out and maybe help her out a little. She wasn’t very well off financially, so maybe sending her money on behalf of Sooyeon would be a good way to start. He could do it periodically too, make sure the girl was being taken care of - she was only sixteen, and certainly Sooyeon being gone meant that her situation wasn’t favorable. Yes, he could set something up - he had way more money than he knew what to do with anyway.

He was just about done reading over the report when there was a knock at his door.

“It’s open,” he called, only raising his eyes from the document once his visitor entered the room. Hongbin didn’t even try to bite back a smile when he saw Wonshik there.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Wonshik said as he walked up to Hongbin’s desk, carrying his own set of documents. “I have the reports with those updates about the Castrum’s security.”

“Wonderful, thank you, bunny,” Hongbin chirped and reached out to receive the papers, his fingers lightly brushing Wonshik’s during the exchange. He pretended not to notice it and ignored the urge to pull Wonshik to himself over the desk and kiss the breath out of him.

“You’re welcome,” Wonshik muttered, cheeks only a little on the rosier side. “You look like you’re in a good mood today.”

“I guess you could say that,” Hongbin granted, setting the reports he’d just received aside, next to the ones he’d been looking over previously. “Remembered the bard I was asking that last cultist about? The one they— Killed.”

“The one that tried to help you,” Wonshik replied, the sentence lilting at the end as if he needed confirmation.

“Yes. Sooyeon,” Hongbin said with a nod. “Chansik managed to find her sister for me.”

“He did? That’s great news, Bean.”

“Mhm, it is,” he agreed, “I want to do something for her as a way of gratitude, maybe send her some money in her sister’s name.”

“It’s a lovely idea, Binnie,” Wonshik said, and he did sound like he was being honest.

“You really think so? I thought it would be strange.”

“No, I really do think it’s a great idea.”

Hongbin smiled to himself, head ducked down slightly to hide it. Despite not liking to parade his good deeds, it still felt nice to hear Wonshik compliment him for it. “Thanks, bunny.”

With a smug little side smile, Wonshik said, “See? I told you had good in you.”

Hongbin snorted and shook his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Sometimes,” Wonshik replied before dropping his tone to a more serious one. “What of the man you mentioned? The one who hired you?”

Hongbin pursed his lips and frowned. “Nothing on him yet. Bastard knows how to hide his tracks.”

“I’m sure Chansik will find him.”

“He will. He always finds what he’s looking for,” Hongbin said, and Wonshik gave him a smile that was supposed to be encouraging. It did help, a little.

“And when he does, you can count on me to hold the guy still while you kick his ass.”

That caused Hongbin to break into laughter, one of the few genuine laughs he’d had in a long time. Wonshik seemed awfully pleased with himself. “And here I thought you considered violence a last resort.”

“There are exceptions to every rule, Bean.”

“I guess you’re right,” Hongbin mumbled, and a charged silence followed.

He wanted to say more. It was around lunchtime, maybe he could invite Wonshik to eat together? Or maybe take a walk, for the sake of spending some time with each other? They had been busy the past several days, had barely any time at all for leisure what with all the chaos going on around them, so maybe—

No. No, that was temptation calling for him and he had to resist. Sanghyuk wasn’t doing much better; although the recent developments with the Breach and the Inquisition had forced him to be a little more active, Sanghyuk was still as depressed and despondent as he’d been since Jaehwan disappeared. They had agreed to put their feelings on hold for Sanghyuk’s sake, and Hongbin would abide by that.

The same thing seemed to be on Wonshik’s mind, because he suddenly said, “Did you see Sanghyuk today?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin replied, licking his dry lips. He was nervous for some ungodly reason. “I brought him something to eat in the morning, he was reading over some documents. He looked like he was up all night, so I sent him to bed.”

“That’s— Concerning.”

Hongbin grimly nodded to agree with that comment.

“I was thinking,” Wonshik said, very serious, “we should get him a puppy.”

Hongbin blinked slowly, both processing the information and waiting for the punchline. It never came. “A puppy?”

“Yes!” Wonshik replied with a burst of energy, and Hongbin couldn’t help but to smile - he was so cute. “Puppies make everything better! If a puppy doesn’t cheer him up, I don’t know what will.”

“A puppy is a big responsibility, though,” Hongbin felt the need to point out, because Wonshik clearly didn’t think that through. “Sanghyuk is barely looking after himself, do you really think he would be able to take care of a dog?”

“I’d help him!”

“Of course you would,” he said fondly, shaking his head as he looked at Wonshik the same way. “It’s not a bad idea, but maybe one we should keep on the back burner for now. We should start slow, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Like proper parents would, with— I don’t know. Nurture and affection?”

Wonshik arched an eyebrow. “Who are you and what did you do to my Bean?”

Hongbin laughed, mostly to cover up how affected he was by that possessive pronoun Wonshik used to refer to him. “Shut up, I’m perfectly capable of being affectionate.”

“I know you are, but you never— You know. Actually said it out loud. You usually act like you’re too cool for mushy stuff.”

“Oh, I  _ am _ too cool for mushy stuff,” Hongbin said, making Wonshik laugh, “but I know that sometimes the mushy stuff is needed, so take that as you will.”

“Alright. I see your point, let’s try that.”

“It’ll be a gradual thing though, it won’t work overnight.”

“I know,” Wonshik confirmed, starting to walk towards the door, “but if it doesn’t work after a while, we’re going with the puppy plan.”

Hongbin’s only reply to that was more laughter, background noise to Wonshik’s exit. 

 

✶✶✶

 

The walk back from that little dinner party was a tense one. It had been a strange night, what with Jaehwan being back as a vessel for a soul of an ancient dragon god, but a happy one too. Having Jaehwan back after two years was like— Hongbin didn’t even know. All he knew was that seeing Sanghyuk smile - really smile - after so long was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Wonshik, quietly walking next to him, seemed to be of a same mind. Wonshik looked lighter, the concern no longer splattered on his features as it had been for the past two years. He looked younger, even, like having Jaehwan back had given him energy that hadn’t been there before.

Hongbin felt a little bitter about it; he wished he’d been enough to have that effect on Wonshik, even though he knew it was about Sanghyuk, their King, and not Jaehwan’s presence.

Hongbin had already accepted that he would never be a source of comfort, though. Not for Wonshik and not for anyone else.

When they were about halfway up the stairs to the battlements, Wonshik broke the silence.

“So… Jaehwan is back,” he commented, going for natural but coming off awkward.

“Yes… Yes, he is,” Hongbin answered, equally stiff.

He knew the hidden meaning behind that comment. Jaehwan coming back, the last excuse to put off—  _ Them _ . There was nothing else to hide behind now, everything said and done and dealt with, and all Hongbin could do was stand there and wait for Wonshik to pass judgment. From their slip all those weeks ago, Hongbin thought it would be positive, but things can change in a second - it had been  _ weeks _ . Everything could have changed.

They reached the top of the stairs, silence trailing after them after the short exchange. Hongbin stopped there and turned to Wonshik. Making eye contact was hard, so he kept his eyes low.

“I— Well. Good night.”

He turned to leave, walk over to his quarters and call it a night, but before he could go far, Wonshik grabbed his wrist. His grip was firm, not one Hongbin would be able to escape from too easily, but also careful. It happened a lot, Wonshik keeping a grasp on him, keeping him in place. Hongbin wasn’t shocked to realize he liked it, considering how he disliked feeling trapped.

If it was Wonshik, though, he didn’t mind being shackled.

“Where are you going?” Wonshik asked, and Hongbin had no clue how to interpret his tone so odd it was. A mixture of humor and anticipation and fear. “I— I mean, it’s early.”

Hongbin looked back at him and cocked his head to the side minutely, struggling not to look away from Wonshik’s intense gaze and grin at him instead. “Oh? Did you have something else in mind?”

“This and that,” Wonshik muttered. Even in the dark, in the faint moonlight, Hongbin could tell the tips of his ears had gone red.

Without saying anything else, Wonshik tugged on his arm, prompting Hongbin to follow him towards Wonshik’s side of the battlements - his office, his bedroom. If they would stop at his office or continue up to the bedroom, Hongbin had no idea. He wasn’t sure which one he would prefer.

The walk wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity had dragged on by before they finally reached Wonshik’s quarters, and only then did Wonshik let go of Hongbin in favor of unlocking the door. Hongbin couldn’t remember when was the last time he felt so on edge, so nervous with expectation and fear; he almost felt drunk with those emotions, unable to get his thoughts in a straight line, even less will himself to calm down the way he was used to, the way he was  _ trained _ to.

He heard the telltale  _ click _ signaling the door had been unlocked, and just a second later Wonshik was holding it open for Hongbin to pass. He did so quietly, subdued in a way that was entirely unlike him. He felt much like a child about to be scolded by an adult for misbehaving.

The door had barely been shut behind them and Wonshik was already speaking. “Bean… Do we still want the same thing?”

No build up, then. Right to the point.

Hongbin stopped in the middle of the room, eyes wandering aimlessly over the few pieces of furniture Wonshik had in his office - the old desk and chair, the shelves filled with books and scrolls and boxes, the dart game hanging on one of the walls. Boring, but better than facing Wonshik.

“You already know what I want,” Hongbin replied, adding a shrug to the words in a way to make it seem like he was calm. “I want you to be happy, that hasn’t changed and it never will.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hongbin,” Wonshik tiredly requested, moving closer to Hongbin if the sound of his footsteps were any indication. “What is really on your mind?”

Hongbin licked his lips, gone dry with expectation. What was the point of lying now, hiding behind excuses? If there was anyone Hongbin could let his walls down, it was Wonshik. So he took a deep breath, hands balled into fists to stop himself from shaking and pretend he was more confident than he actually was.

After a long moment, he finally whispered, “I’m scared I’ll fuck this up again.”

And there it was, the truth. Raw, bare and exposed at last. It was all about fear, had always been, and telling himself that he was doing what was best for Wonshik was, as Wonshik himself called it, bullshit. While he actually did want the best for Wonshik, it was deeper than that - it was about Hongbin struggling with the idea that maybe he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was, that he didn’t like the person he once was and that, no matter how much he tried to redeem himself, he may never truly deserve to be happy or loved. It was about trying to deceive himself into thinking he was fine with that, with being alone, with watching the people he loved most be happy without him while he stood at the fringes of their happiness, never good enough to be a part of it.

He wasn’t good. Hongbin knew so, and he knew he would never really be good. He would always be crooked, rotten, he’d simply done too much bad in his life to ever truly redeem himself to be deserving of someone as good as Wonshik. He was trying, but— It was too late to truly salvage his soul. He changed his life, turned it around to try and make something good out of it, but there was no taking away the bad in him. It was still there, would always be.

He had lied, stolen, cheated, murdered and permanently injured his way through most of his life. It’d helped him survive thus far, but what of the cost?

“Bean— You won’t,” Wonshik spoke and he was so close, just behind him, “you won’t ruin this, you can’t. Unless… Unless you leave again. Will you leave?”

Hongbin shook his head, a manic little motion. “No. No, never again.”

“Then you can’t ruin it,” Wonshik said, conviction that almost got Hongbin to believe it too, and wrapped his arms around Hongbin’s waist, pressed his chest to his back. “Stay with me and we’ll make it work.”

“Is it that simple?” Hongbin asked, leaning back into Wonshik’s embrace, one hand coming to rest atop Wonshik’s at his middle.

“It can be.”

“I want this so bad,” he finally admitted, turning just the slightest so he could see Wonshik behind him. He was so close, his chin resting on Hongbin’s shoulder.

“It’s yours already, Bean.”

Hongbin chuckled, a strangled little sound, vision just a little blurry with the tears that wanted to fall - happy tears. Not something he was used to. “You should really reconsider this while you can.”

“I had more than enough time to do that already, I’m sure of this,” Wonshik promptly responded, and to finish making Hongbin a mess of emotions, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, tender unlike anything Hongbin ever experienced. “I will never love anyone like I love you, and I know that because, even after the shit you pulled on me, I still feel the same. I forgave you already, Binnie. I forgive you, so please,  _ please _ , let me show it to you.”

Hongbin couldn’t find it in him to make any sounds, only managing a nod of his head before he turned around fully so could embrace Wonshik properly. Wonshik easily adjusted to accommodate the new position, his hands coming up to cup Hongbin’s cheeks lovingly.

When Wonshik kissed him, it wasn’t the explosive fire it had been the last time - it was soft and unhurried, adoring, and Hongbin allowed himself to melt into it, surrendered completely to Wonshik. It was a display of vulnerability he wasn’t used to, giving up control and letting someone else take the reins wasn’t something he ever wanted for himself, but it was Wonshik - Wonshik was always the exception to his rules.

And, he figured, now that they would finally become an item officially, it was alright to share that control with Wonshik. He wasn’t alone anymore, didn’t have to be alone ever again.

The thought made him feel giddy.

The same could be said about Wonshik, apparently, because he had the most stupid grin on his face when they parted.

Still smiling like a silly person, Wonshik said, “Let’s just get ourselves that puppy, Sanghyuk doesn’t need it anymore.”

Hongbin snorted and shook his head fondly before he pulled Wonshik to another kiss, heart and soul floating on cloud nine now that he was unburdened by all the guilt, all the fear. He knew it would take time and effort, that he would have to keep working hard to continue to deserve Wonshik - he never would deserve Wonshik fully, of course, he was just way too good for him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t fight tooth and claw to keep him.

And yeah, maybe getting a puppy wasn’t that bad of an idea too.

 

✶

**Author's Note:**

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